


Hel for the Holidays

by misreall



Series: Loki And Nora's Infinity Stone Playlist [12]
Category: Loki: Agent of Asgard, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor - All Media Types, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: Drunk Sex, F/F, F/M, Glove Kink, Hair Kink, Hand Jobs, Handcuffed Together, Karaoke, Magic, Oral Sex, Playful Sex, Running from the law, Semi-Public Sex, Sex, Shapeshifting, Shower Sex, Voice Kink, marvel AU, sex changing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-30
Updated: 2017-12-27
Packaged: 2019-02-08 15:28:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12867546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misreall/pseuds/misreall
Summary: Loki takes Nora to New Orleans for Christmas, and all Hel breaks loose





	1. The Journey is Not the Destination in This Case, But We Can Still Enjoy It

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place immediately after Stupid as Hel.

 

There had been a brief debate on how they would travel to New Orleans.  Nora had wanted to take a door, eager to get there, but Loki refused.  

For once he did not allow Nora to have her way of things.  And as he was the one who would have to create the door, it was not as if she would have any choice.

“We will take the ship.  With the latest improvements I have made to the drive system, and a few other areas, and the time shift between realms, the journey will only take four or five days and we can still arrive by December 21st,” he said between sips of coffee and bites of the excellent sacher torte Charles had served them after Nora had woken.  

“You are never going to be finished with that thing, are you?” She asked, ignoring the food but drinking more coffee.  He placed a second slice of confection next to the untouched one already on her plate.

“Are you referring to my beloved _Naglikjóll_ as a mere _thing_?  That smacks of an ugly jealousy,” he said blandly.  “It is not as if I have spent much time with her of late.  When I travelled with Thor it was through Heimdall’s assistance.”

Nora started to lift a bit of cake to her mouth and then dropped it back to the plate with a clatter, a grimace at once knowing and annoyed spreading across her lips.  “THAT’S why you want to go the slow way!  You want to spend time tinkering.”

Loki picked up the fork she had dropped, “That is not the only reason… you are far from strong at this moment. Between the antimony and the conditions you were kept in, I think you are too frail to travel in the void.  Particularly between two planets as far apart as Viefr and Terra.”

“Glad to know I come into it somewhere,” she said, pushing past him.  “I’m going to take a shower.  Go get your _girlfriend_ ready to leave.”

With a sigh, he finished the rest of the torte.  He had striven to make _Naglikjóll_ a second home for her since he had found the massive, ancient exploring ship floating derelict in the space between the realms of the Light and Dark elves, a relic of Asgard from the time before the creation of the Bifrost.  

He stepped through the floor length mirror in his dressing room on Viefr and onto the deck of the ship where it floated serenely in the aether above the planet, hidden by a simplistic cantrip.  He loved low magic worlds, they were so easy to fool.  

The deck was the only space he had finished to his complete satisfaction - spare and gleaming with black metal and silver, the captain’s chair replaced by a properly comfortable throne.  Not that he spent much time in it.  As an exploring ship _Naglikjóll_ could direct herself quite easily with a few simple instructions.

He had been forced to turn off the verbal controls after being accused of flirting with the ship.  He had also had to replace the ship’s voice - one Loki had found very soothing and that had made Nora threaten to get out and walk on more than one occasion - with something very clinical and dull.  Rather what Charles would sound like if someone removed his personality.

Well.  He had more or less done those things.  When Nora’s lifesigns were detected on board, at any rate.

“Wake up, _sváss_ , Daddy’s home,” he said, slowly passing his hand over the main control panel.  

The glowing gold lights of the helm rose, and a sultry, female purr answered him. “Welcome back, sir.  I’ve missed you.”

“Of course you did.  I programmed you to.”

“Thank you for doing that, sir.  I mean I enjoy it even more when you return,” _Naglikjóll_ said, eagerly.

He may have taken some of his special modifications a bit far, but he also may have been drunk after one of his rare fights with Nora when he was working on repairs to _Naglikjóll’s_ AI.  As he gave her instructions for the journey he smiled, thinking how close he was to finishing the most important project on the ship.

 

For the first day of travel to earth, Nora spent a lot of time sleeping, eating, and laying around reading, her body’s needs finally taking precedent over her snit with Loki about their taking the long way home.  

After twelve hours of sleep on that night, she woke up feeling almost like herself, wondering where Loki was.

Fussing over his stupid boat, no doubt.  Whenever they travelled on the _thing_ he spent most of his time fixing this and that, and now that the repairs were done he was redecorating.  The bathroom and their bedchamber had been done first, and both were up to his usual lavish needs.  An enormous alabaster tub, a parade ground sized bed, a completely pointless and always lit fireplace.

And so on and so forth.

The rest of the ship was a continual work in progress, as her husband’s magpie mind would dart from one task to the next, never quite finishing any of them.  Sometimes going back to one - the exterior was a huge issue as he kept changing his mind on what he wanted it to look like and there had been more than one time that he had nearly given Nora heart failure when she had looked out of one of the portholes to see him floating beside the hull, arms crossed, rubbing his forefinger over his upper lip as he always did when deep in thought.

“Where is Loki?”  She asked the air.

“His Highness is in the central hold,” came a clipped, metallic answer from the thing.

She should have known.  Of all of Loki’s endless projects on the thing, the work on the central hold was the most consuming.  When he had first seen the massive, round space, with its rising tiers of empty metal terraces, he had immediately decided to make it into his workroom.  Everywhere they travelled he was forever picking up things to add to it.  They rarely left a planet without a stupid amount of boxes being delivered and stowed in one of the other holds.  

He would sometimes ask if she wanted to see it, but she was profoundly disinterested in his lack of progress.

“Fine.  Tell him I’m awake,” she snapped.  And then felt ridiculous.  “Please.”

And then she felt more ridiculous.

If she was being honest with herself, and Nora tried to be, she was jealous of the stupid boat.  Loki adored the thing with no irony or restraint, and she was used to being the only one he felt that way about.  And it did have an intelligence, after all.  Before he changed the ship’s computer’s voice to the current one she there was something about it that annoyed her, not just that it always fawned over him, which was sickening.  There was something about it…. That sultry tone, that drawling, snotty Asgardian accent…

Ick.

After bathing and eating, Nora then spent the next few hours getting increasingly annoyed as Loki not only didn’t show himself, he didn’t even send her any word.

At one point she found Charles, looking dirty from helping work in the hold, “Is he going to break for lunch or anything?”  She asked, annoyed.

Poor Charles blushed, trying to wipe some of the paint off of his suit lapel and straighten the one strand of hair that had come free and was dangling boyishly over his brow, “I believe not, madame.  Master Loki is quite close to completing the hold at last.”

“Sure he is.”

After a few more hours, bored because she couldn’t concentrate on a book, and antsy now that she felt better, Nora decided she had had enough.  

When she reached the hold, the door wouldn’t open.

“Open the door,” she said the air.

“His Highness has ordered that the door is not to be opened to you.”

“What?!  No, open the door!”

“His Highness-” it started again.

“Did or did he not program you to accept orders from me?”

“He did.  As long as they do not override his orders,” it said, emotionlessly.

“Oh he did…” she said, and then proceeded to hammer on the door until her hand was sore.

Nothing.

She had just been kidnapped!  They had been apart for days and now this?

So a few more hours later, when the thing told her that Loki requested she join him in the central hold she told _Naglikjóll_ to tell him to go fuck himself.  She wasn’t sure if it actually did it, but the idea of that cold voice repeating her words to him made her happy as she settled into dinner alone.

 

Loki listened to Nora’s message and sighed.  He sat down, weary from hours of work, to eat alone.  

 

After eating, and getting over herself, Nora went back to the central hold which this time opened for her.  The edges of the doorway gleamed with green and gold light, and when she stepped out she wasn’t on the floor of the room, but on the top tier.  

She gaped.  

The plain, cold silver metal that had made up the circling terraces that rose for three stories over the space had been transformed into wrought iron balconies, many of them wrapped in vines and flowers from the different worlds they had visited, each of them with a different little area for two people to sit on.  Some of them with large, soft chairs, or loveseats, others with porch-swings or piles of pillows.  An enormous chandelier made from more iron, but also copper, and dripping with actual gemstones - thousands of them, most of them alien to her, all of them glowing with rich colors and faceted to send soft light to each balcony.

Walkways criss-crossed the space, like a black web, and a maze, so she would go down for a bit, then up, until she reached the floor of the hold, which had been transformed as well.

Into a library.

High shelves, bracketed by copper and made of scented woods, and stuffed with thousands of books - everything from cheap, old paperbacks to ancient tomes - curved and ended in small nooks, where ever more comfortable seats beckoned for her to idle and read.  

Underfoot, thick carpets.  Because Loki loved to go barefoot at home.

Finally, making her way to the center after getting lost and distracted several times, Nora found her husband asleep on a large, black velvet chaise lounge, naked and only partially covered by a matching throw.  He hated sleeping clothed, saying it was like being slowly strangled to death.

On a low table was the remains of what was clearly meant to be a dinner for the two of them.

She was glad to see he had eaten her share as well.

Even asleep he looked tired.  She couldn’t imagine the work that had gone into all of that, even with magic and super strength.

Nora sat beside him, carefully.  Loki slept less than she did, even on her bad days.  At first she had thought it was something to do with his alien physiognomy, but she had learned that wasn’t true.  Loki’s brain tended to spin.  He had too many things going on within it most of the time, and he would often wake himself up, ideas going left and right and pinging against other ideas, so rather than sleeping through he would often take cat naps through the day.  

She had also learned that it was not always safe to wake him up.  Especially if there was any sign of his having a nightmare.  When that happened she would have to get across the room and call him.  The sound of her voice in any distress would wake him immediately, no matter how far gone in his own terror he was, but if she would get too close… there had been a time or two that he had nearly killed her, and the guilt of it had debilitated him for days.

But he was clearly sleeping peacefully now.  And so she let herself enjoy him.

No matter how many times they had been naked together, Nora never really got enough of looking at him.  Mostly because Loki took huge pleasure in being the performative one, doing as much to her as she would allow or could take, so most of the time she was too distracted taking him in to take him in.

And also, because he was so beautiful but she rarely got to enjoy that as much as she wanted.  Because even though he was so terribly, painfully vain, he would shy from her gaze after a while, finding a way to distract her.  As if there was something he was still afraid she might see and not love.

His hair was so long currently it spilled off of the chaise.  She carefully lifted it and put it back on the cushion next to him, knowing he would hate for it to touch the floor.  The silky strands seemed to coil of their own will around her fingers, and she shyly pressed a kiss to them before letting go, glad he couldn’t see.

As gently as she could she traced the fine hairs on his gullwing brows.

His soot-black lashes were so long they nearly brushed his high, aristocratic cheekbones, which were sharp enough to cut them off.  His head was turned to the side so his stretched neck was begging to be kissed and nipped at, and his thin mouth was relaxed, not scornfully annoyed or ironically amused.  

One arm was thrown above his head, his long fingers curled in slightly, and the line of leading down to his chest was a perfect match of lean muscle and graceful bone.  

His surprisingly broad shoulders and chest were the same.  It took all of Nora’s restraint not to put her hands on his pectorals and just run them up and down, savouring the fine textured skin with her fingertips, and the spring of his muscles under her palms.

And then down.  She had always been especially drawn to the curve of his ribs, and the hollow of his hips where his perfectly defined belt of Adonis was too much temptation.  As gingerly as she could, she brushed where the velvet covering him ended and his skin began, hoping that his subconscious would think it was the blanket and not wake him.

She just wanted to look at him like this for a while longer.

He shifted slightly, but nothing else.

At first.

While she was wishing he had not covered himself at all, so she could look at his long legs, he began to move, just a bit.

His mind might be unaware of her, but his body wasn’t.  His breath deepened gradually, his lips parting with a puff of air, and an exquisite flush barely pinked his perfect skin. The scent of him - juniper forests in winter, deep earth, and salted fruit, grew stronger and twinned its way around Nora, and she felt her breath match his, her own lips open, her skin grow warm and sensitive.

As it happened, his penis rose, leisurely but eventually in full as she watched it first twitch under the velvet, then tent the thick, plush fabric, and finally push its way out from under to press against his stomach, a fine pearl of precum crowning the head.

Even asleep Loki was the very image of seduction.

As if hypnotized by his arousal, Nora found herself touching the part of his cock that was still under the blanket, stroking with her fingertips, petting him, leaning over to watch his face.  His mouth became more slack, and his teeth parting so he could lick his lips.  His lashed gave a faint flutter, and his prick jumped under her hand.

Nora’s body was hot, her nipples hard, and deep heat scorched through her center, so she was wet and panting slightly.  No matter how much time passed, to have a god at her mercy was the most erotic thing possible.

With a bit of trepidation at what could happen if she woke him too abruptly, her fingers walked up his covered length, and then eased the blanket back to take him carefully in hand.

He was marble and need beneath her touch, and the unconscious moan he gave was nearly enough to make her come herself.  She spread her legs a bit, some of the heavy coverlet now gathered between them and she unconsciously rode against the fabric as she worked him.

She eased her hand slowly back and forth, staring at the strain and release of him, looking to face and then his cock, back and forth with the same rhythm.  Her other hand cupped his testicles, pressing deeply behind them, and when he groaned this time she did come, pushing down hard on the velvet, her hands convulsing around him.

 

The musical, breathy sound that Nora made when she came to a particular kind of completion roused Loki from a dream of bringing her to that very state.  He awoke to find his treasure pleasuring him, her face flushed, her head thrown back in perfect, solemn ecstasy.

He sat up, pulling her moaning mouth into his, the surprise of the whole thing causing him to surge against her grip, his hips undulating wildly, their tongues mating, her clothed body rubbing against his enervated flesh, and his peak was a mad, rushing thing.

When he had finally caught his breath they were tangled together, wrapped in velvet, Nora curled on his body, his cock eager for another round.  She was panting and whispered an apology in his ear for not joining him earlier.   

In moments he had stripped her, and was on her and in her, “I told you long ago,” he thrust deep and hard, “never apologise to me, princess.  But you may scream as much as you like.”

 

Hours later, exhausted again, they lay in a heap together, not gracefully, not even Loki, and he stroked her sodden hair from her face.  “So you like your room?” He murmured against her jaw where he nuzzled.

“My room?”  If she had any energy left Nora would have been shocked.

“Of course.  Your room.  Your retreat.”

She snorted, “Everything in here is for two.”

She could feel him shrug weakly, “I live in hope of the odd invitation,” then, wearily, he leaned up on an arm to look at her, “It has taken longer than I would have liked.  I hoped that having a place that you would love would soften you towards my poor ship.”

She kissed him with the same lazy thoroughness he used on her, and left him lazily blinking with pleasure, “I… I have been really dumb about this boat.  I know guys are into their cars, it's just…” she sat up, annoyed, “that stupid voice!  Who is it?  One of your ex’s?  Someone you wanted to be an ex?  Who?”

He gave her a shocked look and then fell down laughing.  

She poked him in the side, hard, “WHO?”

Loki stopped laughing, a smile of genuine happiness on his face, “Treasure, have you, perhaps, ever wondered what I might sound like if I were from Chicago?  Because I have more than wondered what you would sound like, were you from Asgard.”

He laughed again at the look on her face, and then sat up to kiss her cheek, “I like it not nearly so much as I would have thought.  It is no improvement.”

And then, he eased her back down so he could show her how much he preferred what came from her mouth to any other sound in the universe.

 

Three days later, when they were in the French Quarter, drinking cafe au lait and eating beignets, Nora was still slightly hoarse.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. Dixieland Santa and the Creole Beat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OVFEadOKBYE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a special, holiday lagniappe in this chapter just for my Three Wise Ladies - Caffiend, Hurricanerin, and Dianamolloy

Loki hated Christmas.

There was no doubt whatever about that.

Granted, he had little enough experience with it, but it was close enough in most ways to  _ Jul  _ upon Asgard that he felt as if he had endured a millennia of festive seasons such as this one.  Though the bright, somewhat warm, and snowless weather in New Orleans was a mark’d difference from both home and Chicago where he had spent his one other Christmas on Midgard.

Still, with the music, the lights, the swags of out of place evergreen, the bedecked pines, and the sweaters (oh, Norns, the monstrous sweaters!) there was no way for him to lie to himself about the ordeal of it all.

He Could Not Lie!  

To _ himself, _ no less!  

All of his best lying had always been done to himself and now his vast powers were failing him.

Truly this time of year was cursed.

But for Nora’s sake he tried to pretend otherwise.  For Nora, his perspicacious princess, she of the jaundiced eye and sensible nature, appeared to adore this hypocritical, tacky festival.  As they walked through the foolish masses of tourists in the French Quarter she was positively tingling with joy.  

Over the these three years he had shown her so many of the greatest splendors of the universe: Vanaheim on the Night of Birdsong.  The iridescent jungle of Celm.   King H’vor’s palace, created from an entire small crystalline moon.  His own wardrobe.  Yet here she was near to beside herself with joy because they would be seeing something called Celebration in the Oaks, which featured such glories as the “Who Dat?” tree and some manner of creature called Mr. Bingle.  

“He’s a snowman!  You’ll love him!”  She had enthused that morning while trying to decide between three black dresses, none of which she chose to wear.  The governors of the city Goblin Market had shown delightful levels of terror and enthusiasm when he had sent them word that he would be returning to New Orleans, and had agreed to his request to have the house they had stayed in before made available to him. 

Nora had been worried that they might leak word to the Avengers of his presence on earth, but he knew better.  Now that the Midgardian magical community knew his actual identity they fell all over themselves to accommodate him, being more flexible and farsighted than the superhero community.

With one exception.

He was going to have to have words the alleged Sorcerer Supreme one of these days.  If for no other reason than what manner of self-respecting enchanter took a title that made him sound like a cheap pizza from a chain establishment?

When he had raised a skeptical brow at Nora’s declaration about Mr. Bingle, she had kissed him on the cheek, trying to make him smile, “You know because -”

“Quite. A Jotunn crack. Very amusing.  Racist,” he had said, and then tipped her back onto the bed he had not been able to share with her when they had visited New Orleans previously, so he could punish her properly for such a culturally insensitive joke.  

But, to his deep shock and annoyance she had resisted his erotic persuasion, and rushed them out of the house without so much as a quick and artless tup in order not to be late meeting her friends for lunch.  He wondered if Nora was growing bored with his talents, which added a level of concerned distress to his already foul mood.

And now they were in the heart of the Vieux Carre, surrounded by… Christmas.

At least they were near to Galatoire’s.  Nora had insisted they walk from Canal rather than take their hired car the whole way so she could enjoy the sights and sounds of the Quarter decorated for The Holiday of Holidays.

On Royal Street, in the corner near the police station, a group of carolers were singing and collecting money for some manner of charity.  Nora’s rush stopped and she fumbled with her bag for her wallet and joining in on the end of some ridiculous song about Santa catching everyone swinging.  

Loki crossed his arms and tapped his toe with impatience rather than rhythm, and when she motioned for them to stay and sing the next one with the carolers - God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen - he grabbed her hand and started down the street, yanking maybe a bit harder than he should.

“Hey!” she shouted, digging her in hiking booted heels, and then skidding in a slightly humorous way on the slick ground, since he was ridiculously stronger than she.

“I thought we were in haste to meet your friends,” he tossed back over his shoulder.

“Fine,” she said, speeding up to walk at his pace.  “I’m glad you’re so eager to meet CiCi and AJ.”

Loki had no special desire to meet Nora’s New Orleans companions, but as they meant a great to her, and they had been part of her Avenger’s Tower caper, he knew he should be.  Perhaps, off of the street and away from all of the Holly Jolliness, he might manage to feel more social.

Alas.

Galatoire’s was awash in the season, with red bows bedecking an inordinate number of red bows, evergreen swags that clashed with the more elegant gold and jade fleur de lys wallpaper.  Which was quite bad enough, but the customers.

Aging matriarchs wearing reindeer antlers that blinked with Christmas lights.

Santa hats on small children, teenagers, adults, and even the elderly.

Men wearing candy cane striped bow ties.

And, most unfortunately, Nora’s otherwise beautiful friends - tall and glamorous CiCi of the smoky topaz skin and clear grey eyes, and adorable AJ of the Betty Page bangs, bustline, and smile - wearing the most hideous red sweaters, both of which said “Mrs. Claus.”  As well as trepidatious, mildly confused expressions.

Nora hugged them both at once, “It’s him.  Weird, right?.”

Because Magnus was no longer available to him, Loki had created a new, human self to be when on Midgard.  As ever, it took only slight if key alterations to confound Stark’s facial recognition software, even after it had been especially calibrated by Tony to adjust for his special gifts.

Loki mentally quoted any number of post-adolescent females throughout the universe, “As if!”

The dark blonde hair and pale hazel eyes were simple enough, as was the slightly ruddy and weathered complexion, but to shift the balance of his brow just a few millimeters, to make his jaw a bit narrower, his chin the tiniest bit blunter.  He made himself shorter, but not much, with a bit more muscle, with a broad smile and shoulders to match, and his new human-self was complete and utterly unrecognizable to even these women who were expecting him.

Oh, and the new he was handsomer than Magnus.  Because why not?

He just needed to consider a name.  Jonathan?  James?  William, perhaps?  

Before he sat, Loki bowed slightly at the couple, together and separately.  “I owe you both my thanks, as well as illimitable debt for lending your assistance to Nora’s forlorn storming of the Avengers clubhouse. Indeed, for your willingness to trust her continued sanity once knowing who it was she had entangled herself with.  If there is ever anything I aid you with, please have no fear in asking.”

CiCi crossed her arms, cocking her head, “Well, damn.”

AJ just stared, her mouth slightly open until her wife gently closed it.

“And, needless to say, lunch will be on Nora,” he added, having ceded all of his Midgardian fortunes to her when he had officially left the planet.

“Then we’re eating big,” AJ said, motioning for Loki to take the seat next her.

For the next two hours - finally a place on Midgard that appreciated the time needed to enjoy a meal properly - they did in fact, ‘eat big.’  Crabmeat maison, oysters fresh and Rockefeller, Iceberg wedges with extra blue cheese in his case, filets, chops, and various freshwater fish.

“Eat and drink that now, cause when you’re pregnant I am going to be watching your diet like a hawk.  A damned hawk,” CiCi said, pouring AJ another glass of wine.

“You decided?”  Nora said, a smile in her voice.

“Yeah.  AJ’s younger, and I am not dealing with my students touching my pregnant belly for months. I really don’t like them touching me at all, and you know I would be one _ angry  _ pregnant lady.  Plus, we can time it so she won’t have it till it starts to hit her slow time next fall.”

AJ nodded, “And after the summer, I can just keep on one or two of the extra guys I hire on the to pick up any slack.”

This announcement called for champagne, and extra dessert, and Loki looked at the happy couple.  They would make beautiful mothers.  Any child would be blessed to have the two of them, and no father.  

He began to run through a mental checklist of the magical items he had on the ship, thinking that he might have an idea of how to pay back some of what he owed them.

By the end of the meal, either do to the wine or his altered appearance making them forget who he was, AJ and CiCi were very relaxed around him, to the degree where AJ started telling him a long, rather nicely salacious story about the time Nora had visited for Jazzfest in college and what she and her sister had caught his treasure doing at with one of the zookeepers at Audubon Park. 

All and all it was not so unpleasant.  Apart from those decorations.  And those sweaters.  And the music.

If he never heard “Santa Claus is Coming to Town” again it would be too soon.

“So you’re coming tonight?  7:00 at Le Monocle?”  CiCi asked Nora as they exchanged goodbye hugs.  AJ gave Loki a sort of half hug, but her wife was not quite there yet.

Loki looked at Nora.

She shrugged, “It’s Christmas Karaoke tonight.  I promised CiCi years ago that if I ever came for Christmas I would go.  It’s, um, ladies only.”

“I see.”

Loki was silent in the cab all of the way back to the house, furious with Nora for dragging him to celebrate this misbegotten, ersatz  _ Jul _ knockoff on her homeworld and was now abandoning him for the night!   

As her doting husband he would just have to see to it that she was properly rested before her night out with the girls.

 

Back in their temporary home, Loki returned to his own form and less human clothing, and started up the stairs without a word.

Nora didn’t follow, frowning at his back, arms crossed.  He was on the landing where the staircase turned, framed by the enormous stained glass window that made the foyer, and her deeply weird spouse, glow with coloured lights.  

“Is something wrong?” he asked, also crossing his arms and frowning.  And then upping the game by spreading his legs into a power stance.

“You.  You’re wrong.  You’re acting wrong,” Nora shook her head, hard, trying to be less distracted by his long thighs in what had to be a new pair of black suede pants that were fitted enough that she briefly reconsidered her stance on religion.  “I mean, what’s wrong?”

“Not a thing.  Now hurry up, we only have a short time until you are to meet them for your evening out,” he started the rest of the way up without waiting to see if she followed him.

“We have, like, four hours!” she yelled after him.

For a moment Nora hesitated, wanting to call him back, to get him to admit that something was bothering him, and had been almost since they had arrived.  Well, since after the beignets, which had been both of their all consuming focus after dropping off bags at the house that dawn.  Then they had returned and slept.

But since then Loki had been off.

Once they got to the bedroom she knew he wouldn’t be answering any questions, so she followed.  He was already off of the steps, so she called after him as she hurried up to the third flood, “Listen, I know that something-”

He wasn’t in the master bedroom.

She checked the bathroom, the closet, and was about to look under the bed when she heard him.

“Down here.”

She went back down to the second floor, noticing now that the door the room that had been hers the last time they had been to New Orleans was open.

It was a lovely room, not as grand as the master suite, but cozy, with a perfectly lovely, huge, four-poster bed, polished floors, and a small balcony.  It had been, up to that point, the most wonderful room she had slept in, with the best bed.

Loki was sitting on the bed, his feet bare, just staring at her, his eyes narrow and almost cold, a viper smile toying with his thin lips.  

“Now what?”  She asked, stopping at the foot of the bed, again crossing her arms.

“You owe me, treasure,” he hissed out softly.

“What?  What do you mean?”  Nora was confused, but she had been confused with him all day.

He pulled his legs up and then so slowly, all the while staring into her eyes, crawled across the bed to her. 

It took him about a year.

Nora was soaked by the time he got there.

When he reached her, Loki put his face close to hers, his head moving slightly back and forth, his eyes hypnotically dark.  He didn’t quite kiss her. He didn’t quite touch her.  She could just feel the cool of his breath and the heat of his skin.  

“The last time you lay in this bed you… denied me your ecstasy… I require recompense for my own lonely, tawdry pleasure that night.  Forced to listen to you call my name from a floor away when I could have been with you.”

Nora thought back to their last time here, remembering their intense nearly something at the Avenue Pub, when Loki as Magnus was charmingly drunk and she had found herself no longer able to pretend, at least to herself, how much and how constantly she wanted him.  That night she hadn’t been able to sleep and had masturbated to what had been a very modest fantasy about the two of them together.

And, because he was a fucking god and had amazing hearing, he had heard everything and had been damned mad about the whole, sad, little thing. No, he was furious.  

Gods get furious.  And act like spoiled children.

But ultimately it had been good for the two of them.

Ultimately, strangely, it may have been what brought them together.

No, it sped it along, but they were always going to be together.  Ever since their meeting in New York it had been as inevitable as it was unlikely.  Typically Lokean in its impossible necessity.

“So you want to fuck me here?”  She tried to get him to kiss her, but each time she leaned forward to touch lips he he backed away a little more and a little more until she was awkwardly leaning over the wooden footboard and he laughed slightly.  Reaching the head of the bed, he sat with his back on the headboard and spread his legs wide, patting the place between them.

“No, I want you to show me, little princess,” his voice was amused.

Nora cocked her head and stared at her husband for a minute.  At the heavy fall of hair that covered his calculating eyes, the superior smirk, as if daring her.  

Yeah, SURE he wasn’t in any mood….

It bothered Nora that she didn’t know intuitively what was wrong, even as it bothered her even more that he seemed to have forgotten what today was.

It might have even hurt.  

Just a little.

Fine.  Clearly he wanted to play some kind of game with her, expecting her to be coy, or something like that. A new game that he hadn’t bothered telling her the rules of, so she would just have to make them up as she went along.

He wanted to play, she was going to play.  

Nora placed her fingertips on her clavicle, and looked at him with great, big eyes.  “You mean you want me to-,” now she put the back of her hand to her mouth and gasped, “oh!  But that’s soooo dirty…” she said, sounding shocked.

She started to unbutton her blouse, still staring at him, “I mean, I’ve never-.”  Actually, they had never, thinking about it.  It seemed like a pretty minor thing to have missed on their endless naughty checklist. Other than a quick stroke here or there.  

Her blouse dropped to the floor, quickly followed by her bra.  

Nora cupped her breasts so her nipples peeped from between her fingers, “I’ve always been  _ such _ a good girl,” she added, squeezing, pinching, toying, feeling the wet that Loki’s crawl had inspired and a deep pulse of pleasure, letting out a deep, hitching moan.  

Loki maintained his amused look, but his knuckles were becoming deathly pale.

“Maybe I could just-” she pitched her voice to be ever so slightly girlish and breathless and stopped herself again, now shimmying out of her pencil skirt, the silk making a hiss as it slithered to the floor.

She stood wearing only a pair of lace panties, knee high black, cashmere socks, and her hiking boots.  

The whole act was making her feel a bit stupid, and wildly turned on.  As was his smirk that was turning into a sneer.  The heat coming from his body, followed by waves of cold that made her nipples even tighter, and then back again, making her skin flush and perspire.

He had gotten good at controlling that lately.  She wanted that control gone.

Biting her lower lip, she slid her left hand down her torso, as slowly as Loki would, under the lace.  When she brushed against her clit, she bit the fingers of her other hand, her eyelids fluttering, “Ohhhhh… that feels so good…”

She wasn’t sure how much she was acting any more, as an especially fierce level of arousal coiled through her veins and throbbed in her cunt, making her hum with pleasure.

Loki made a noise, and Nora couldn’t decide between running or laughing.  Instead she moved her hand faster, the sound of her wet barely audible over the sound of her heavy, now panting breaths.  When she focused on him, she saw her husband had his hand cupped over the erection straining the suede of his trews, the tendons as rigid as his cock as he forced himself to not stroke at it.

“Give me those,” he gritted out, pointing at her panties.  The sneer was gone and his eyes were mere slits.

It wasn’t the first time Nora had taken off a pair of underpants over a pair of boots, so she did it pretty easily, even though the brief friction of the lace on her skin nearly made her lose her balance after all.  Instead, she knelt on the bed between Loki’s legs, dangling the scrap of cloth in front of his eyes.

When he reached for them, Nora pulled them back.  He cocked his head, eyes flashing deep emerald.

“Do you really want to play that game” smirked again, clearly having thought of a way to checkmate her play, “little girl?”

Nora dug down deep.  She knew there was one thing she could say that would drive him over the edge, since he was clearly certain that she wouldn’t.  That she couldn’t.   But even though he had started the game, she was going to win. Hopefully losing snap him out of whatever was going on with him. Loki could be strange like that, enjoying a good defeat as much as a total victory.

She put the hand holding the panties to the headboard and leaned close to his ear, her breasts in his face, “Yes, I really do.   _ Daddy _ .”

The sound he made now made it very clear he wasn’t a bit human.

Nora found herself flipped onto her back, her legs in the air and then over his shoulders, as Loki now was the one kneeling, teasing his cock on her upraised pussy, his thumb circling it teasingly, “Oh, treasure,” he growled, “you are about to get the fucking of your young life,” he thrust down hard, his pelvis jerking forwards as he pushed her backwards, her back hitting his knees, while his prick hit her g-spot quick and fast, making her gasp and try to grab anything.  

Then he pulled back, making her whine with frustration.

Over and over, keeping his thrusts shallow enough to drive her wild.  Nora pushed down on her shoulders, bowing her hips up, pulling him in.  Now he made a pained groan as she clutched his length, thrusting up to capture him over and over.

She fisted the sheets, looking away, knowing the sight of his face, of his intensity would send her over the edge.

He fisted her hair, so she had to look at him, “Happy anniversary, Nora,” his voice was very soft, his eyes tender.

“You remembered?”  

“The first time I ever heard you moan, watched you come, that I ever entered Elysium?  I could never forget.”

Loki let go of her hair and with his fingertip drew a rune across her clit that turned her body into fire.  Nora could barely focus, but she saw him make a similar gesture near the base of his penis.

And then he cruelly ground against her, pushing her hip down with his one hand while he worked in and out of her impossibly fast, causing a dozen little near orgasms as her cunt squeezed, and then he stopped entirely letting go of her so her body contracted on itself, driving her clit against the hard panel of muscle above his cock.

He let himself go, pumping into her three more times before he cried out, his peak reverberating by magic through her, her body thinking it was coming, feeling the immensity of his desire, the heat of her own body like an oven he was choosing to burn in, and oven made of sodden velvet and iron.  And then it was her orgasm, latching onto the tail end of his, which made him feel his had started anew, each luscious wave feeling like it was about to end and then echoing back from one to the other.

It only stopped when Nora, lay twitching, exhausted, and finally nearly at a blackout.

Creaking like a 6,000  year old being, Loki pulled out and fell next to her, kissing her shoulder, too weak to do more.

An hour or so later, both languidly laying across the bed, legs tangled, still too spent to move, Nora finally asked Loki what his problem was.

He gave her a strange look and pointed to one of the decorations that were bedecking the lovely house.  “Santa, of course.”

  
  
  



	3. Even the Kiddies Would be Swinging

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nora gets a history lesson, and Loki goes through some changes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i3VNF4WZ_8g

“Santa?”  Nora said, sitting up, her hands on her hips, head cocked like a disgruntled terrier.  

And her nipples scarlet from Loki’s kisses and bites contrasting with her pale, slightly goose-fleshed, skin.  He idly reached to the floor and scooped up his long discarded, pine colored tunic and draped it over her shoulders.  

Red, white, and green.  Now there was a festal decoration even he could not object to.

“Seriously,” she continued, “Santa?  You have a problem with Santa?  He’s not even part of your  cul-”  She stopped and stared at him, her eyes wide, hand to her mouth, looking very much like an actual innocent girl, rather than the erotic lampoon of one she had performed for him before.  She leaned close, her eyes bright and very lovely, whispering, “He isn’t real, is he?  Did he, like, forget to bring you that poison-makers chemistry kit you asked for and you never got over it?  Or, Thor got a pony and you got another, not quite as nice pony?  Like he got a golden one that was made of actual gold and your’s was just silver?  ‘Cause I know you two spoiled babies got just  _ everything _ for Yule _. _ ”

Loki laughed and nodded, “Yes.  We did.”  And then leaned over and kissed her very slowly, hoping to stop this line of questioning, heartily sorry that he had even confessed even as little as he had.

Nora pushed her mouth softly against his, and their lips just barely touched over and over, pulling away and then brushing.  A light suck to his lower lip, a graze of his tongue to her upper, and then-

“But, tell me, is he-”

Loki sighed and fell back on to the bed, “No, he is not real.  Or that is to say, he is quite unfortunately real, but he is not a jolly old elf who delivers toys to the children in a fashion that seems more commensurate with their socio-economic standing than with their actual worthiness.  If that were true, treasure, you would  _ still _ be opening packages from the time you were eight and my brother and I would be fighting it out in Krampus’s sack for some time to come.”

Nora leaned over him, shaking her head, “Yeah, yeah, I know, I’m so good, you’re so bad, blah, blah, blah…” she started poking him below the ribs, “Santa!  Give!”

Loki rolled away from her painfully ticklish touch and strode to a bookcase where he plucked up a lovely, Victorian statuette of the offensive fellow.  “Can you not see it?”  He said, thrusting the thing at his wife.

She shook her head, “What?”

“Truly?”

She made a helpless but annoyed gesture with her hands, implying that no, nothing had changed in the last two seconds.

“Maybe this would help,” he placed a finger over one of the jolly bastard’s gleaming eyes.  Nora shrugged.  “Even now?”  Then he remembered.  “Oh, yes, you’ve never actually met my dearest daddy, have you.  What a lucky girl you are.  Though if that day should come I hope to be vastly entertained.”

“Odin?  Wait, are you saying Santa is Odin?  No.  No damned way.  I don’t remember much from St. Bernadette’s but I do remember that Santa was some Turkish saint.”

“Bishop Nikolaos of Myra, yes, he was… incorporated as it were.  But the origins.  That is  _ all _ Odin,” he said, drawling out the word ‘all’, not wanting to even say his father’s name, lest he appear.  

Loki stood up, and unwittingly began to pace through the house, up to the stairs, making a few rather dramatic gestures that caused Nora to need to bob and weave as she followed him, wrapping herself in his shirt as they went.

“Your generous, red-clad giver of gifts, flying by night in his quaint little sleigh, with his eight enslaved, magical reindeer is, in actuality, my father leading the wild hunt.  The _Odensjakt,_ the _Wuotans Her._ Leading his far from generous band of huntsmen and berzerkers as to keep the people of Midgard in line for another year.  To make them afraid of the night and the cold.  Except for the mortal shamen and other magical practitioners who were mad enough to want to go _with_ him.”  He felt himself getting angrier just thinking about it, busting into their actual bedroom, continuing to pace.

“Say ‘ _ Wuotans Her’ _ again,” Nora requested, “but slowly.”

But he ignored her as he warmed to his subject.

“THEY were sooo annoying.  The worst, really.  Currying papa’s favor, sucking up in return for a little more power, drinking most of the mead that was being passed around, which was spiked with wormwood so they could not tell what was real and what was a vision.  And the rest of us were already manic and delirious from the intentionally ergot tainted rye bread we all ate at the feast before we left Asgard.  You are lucky to have much of a planet left, thinking on the state we were in most years.”

“So, wait, you were with him?” Nora said, having poured herself a scotch from the drinks cart and settled in on the cedar trunk that sat at the foot of the largish bed that Charles had redressed with the linens Loki preferred, before heading out to the shops.

“Thor and I both.  Even Sif and the Assorted Morons now and then.  From the time we were able to ride.  When we were boys it was great fun, riding through the dark, almost getting knocked off of our horses at every turn, frightening the locals, sometimes more than frightening some of them. And when we were old enough to partake in the hallucinogens!  Well, you can imagine what we were like.”

“I feel like you plus chemical hallucinations equals the worst idea ev-.  Holy shit!  Are you Krampus?” Nora asked, taking a big drink.

Loki smiled at her, knowing that she was as pleased as she was horrified by that idea and decided to play with it a bit, “No… he is an indigenous power, much like your good friend Baba Yaga.  But we did date briefly.”

Nora came over and clutched his arm, “Please tell me that’s actually true.  And that you have stories.”

He gave her an enigmatic smile, “Well, ‘date’ might not be the correct term,” he removed the glass from her hand, taking a sip.  “His breath stank of carrion, and his body of goat, but his cock was like a teak firehose and I was very young... “

She drained the glass.

“Now where was I…  Yes, Odin, riding eight-legged Sleipnir, best of horses, whist surveying his least regarded realm once per year, to scare the unknowing populace in line, followed by his mad sons and madder Einherjar, has somehow turned into Kris Kringle dropping off bribes to keep  _ the kids _ in line, being pulled by Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen, Comet, Cupid, Donner, and Blitzen.”

He sucked the last traces of the scotch from her tongue and still needed more.  Also hoping to stop her before she asked the horse question that had to be dancing on the tip of that very organ.

His mouth moved to her jaw, to her ear, licking lightly into it, turning Nora’s body into a shiver of fire.  A hand drifted lazily under his tunic that hung loosely around her, cupping her lovely behind to pull her onto the ridge of his thigh where the fine hair could tease her clit.  She offered him her neck, which he bit firmly.

“Are you ready for me again, princess?” he asked her skin.  Their earlier play upstairs had been delicious.  So unlike his Nora to sport in that way.  It had touched a part of his personal appetites that they rarely toyed with and he wanted more.

She laughed a bit, “One mention of Krampus’ junk and you know I am good to go.  I love a nice pair of horns.”

“Such a naughty little girl I am married to, saying such things.  Wanting such things,” he said, moving his mouth lower, kneeling before her, his ‘crown’ of horns appearing on his head, his hunting leathers forming around his body.  Using two fingers over and over to gather some of her wet while she clearly wanted his hand to stay between her legs, he painted both of her nipples with it and blew on them, cooling his breath so the fragrant points were tight enough to ache and make Nora keen gently.  Then, warming himself, he drew one into his mouth, sucking hard enough that she clutched his horns in one hand and pulled his hair with the other, rubbing herself against his hip.

“I may have invented my new, most favorite delicacy,” he said, moving to the other breast, making her switch sides so now his other hip was also anointed with her need.

Nora’s arms fell weakly to her sides, her knees giving as well, so Loki held her to him as she dangled like a doll.  “Shall I lay you on the carpet and have you again?” he purred around her pebbled nipple.  “With less haste now?  Inch my way into your blistering cunt so slowly whilst I rub your pretty pearl the way I know you like?”  He reached down and loosed his cock so it hung heavily between them, looking all the more naked compared against his green leather trews.

He continued, feeling Nora’s avid eyes on him as he grew harder under her regard, “Circling with two fingers, pressing just a little now and then, but rubbing the whole time while you arch your back and try to pull me in, urging me to go faster?”

Doing as he spoke, Loki kept on, loving the sight of Nora spread below him, the intense, convulsive pull of her as she moved towards her completion.  “Not yet, treasure,” he all but halted his fingers and cock, moving so slightly that her human senses could not quite tell if he was moving at all. 

He could see sweat trickling down her ribs, dewing her chest, as she fought to keep still, knowing that it would just make him more contrary if she moved.

“You are a bastard,” she hushed out, ending in a moan as he circled more quickly but kept thrusting a little.

He stretched her arms so they were spread wide, pulling her sweet breast taut, “No. I just love to see you balancing on the edge of your pleasure.  Right now everything is so heightened for you.  The coarse rug scraping your soft back, pretty behind, the soles of your feet.  The straps and buckles of my boots both scratching the insides of your calves.  My hair tangling and coiling against your throat.  And this-” a hard thrust took him the rest of the way home, not quite so hard that would hurt her, but enough that she knew he could.

Nora always knew he could.

Nora always knew he would not.

Much.

He lowered himself against her, gathering her body against his so he stole just enough of the air from her lungs to make her nearly swoon.

“You love it when I steal you from yourself.  When I take you from the world and thought and time,” he paused as Nora gently undulated under him, no longer consciously trying to reach her peak, her body moving without her mind’s knowledge.

Loki froze, taking in her face, beautiful at the frustrated brink of ecstasy, “Admit it.  Admit that you love it as much as I do and I will let you come.”

Her bright brown eyes focused just a bit, and she gave him a wide, laughing smile, whispering in his ear, “No.”

“There’s my brilliant treasure,” he purred back, keeping her at the threshold for another hour, until he had sweated through his leathers, until Nora no longer knew a single word of any language, until the floor creaked beneath them, until the dark glowed outside, and they could have been anywhere in the universe.

Then, he gave them both mercy.

 

“So wait,” Nora said, as she scrambled to get ready, tossing clothing out of her drawers, “when you said ‘Odin riding,’” Loki winced at that term used to closely after their coupling, “you meant ‘Odin rode,’ right?  He isn’t still doing it, is he?”

“This Realm is still under his rulership, should it know so or not.  So yes, he rides out on Christmas Eve.  Hence my… nerves.  When last I was on Midgard when he came through, he knew I was here, since I was still in the throes of my punishment.  Even if that night was far from such.”  He caressed Nora’s cheek softly, as she fretted over what to wear that night.

It would be probably be black.

“Now, well...”

“So should we leave, then?”  She turned and looked at him, her face very serious.  “‘Cause I can call CiCi from the ship and we can be gone like yesterday.”

“Not necessary, I can assure you.  Once I hid from Odin under his own feast table.  During a feast.  But it does bring me back to another time in my own history.  One that casts me in a less than flattering light,” he said with some dread at her knowing what he-.

Nora shrugged.  “Like you said, history. I need a shower in the worst way.  And I am starving.  Do we have cookies?” she kissed him on the nose and went to the bathing room.

Loki shook his head ruefully.  Nora never let him martyr himself to his satisfaction.

 

Nora called out over the sound of the shower, “I’m sorry about leaving you tonight.   But I have been promising CiCi I would go to this thing just forever.  I’ll try to make it an early night.”

She could hear the sound of the shower door sliding open, but the thick steam meant she couldn’t see much.  It was a bit of a surprise, Loki generally didn’t care for showers.  

Then warm, already slick breasts pressed against her back, and long, smooth arms wrapped around her middle.  Elegant fingers with forest green painted nails took the soap and sponge from her and started to very thoroughly wash Nora’s torso.  Looking down she saw the high arched feet that were bracketing hers had a matching pedicure.

“No need,” Loki’s sultry purr in her ear made her blood go hot, “I have not had a ladies’ night out in I cannot remember when.  I am quite looking forward to it.  Once we get you all cleaned up,” her wife added.  “It may take a while.”

  
  
  



End file.
